The Thin Lines
by LucarioWritefag
Summary: The story of how a Zoroark changed a lonely man's life.
1. Damage Control

_"Now's the time, Blaziken! High Jump Kick!"_

Blaziken promptly obeyed, springing up and dodging a volley of boulders, striking its foe with a mighty blow, kicking up a thick dust cloud from the impact. The veil soon subsided, revealing the victor, standing proudly before an Aggron's massive shape collapsed on the ground.

_**"AAAAAAAAAAND IT IS ALL OVER! JOSEPH ROSEWOOD IS THE NEW NATIONAL CHAMPION!"**_ A voice echoed all over the arena through loudspeakers, causing the crowd to explode in cheers and screams.

My eyes grow damp as the facts slowly dawn on me. I had just conquered Hoenn's National Championship.

I run to my Pokémon, as it holds its arms open, and, before I can take my seconds step, the world spins around me, turning blank, as I hear a familiar voice call my name out in the distance…

…and I merge back into the hospital's cold reality.

_"Joe! Joe!"_ A masked man was leaning over my half-asleep body, shaking me back into awareness. _"Get your ass to Room Four, we have an emergency!"_

I slip my feet back into my shoes, grab a surgical mask-and-cap, and rush to the operation. In the middle of the room, lies a black and greyish vulpine creature, surrounded by a team of nurses, preparing it for surgery.

_"What the hell happened?"_ I ask to the man who shook me awake back in the rest room, as we both cleanse our hands before slipping in sterile equipment.

_"Car crash"_, he replied. _"The driver himself wheeled the poor thing in on the back of his truck."_

_"But… What is this one anyway?"_

_"A Zoroark."_

_"Zo… Zoroark? Unovan species?"_

_"Indeed."_ The man said, before walking to the surgical field. _"I know we're not used to dealing with those, Joe, but there's nowhere else we can take her. We'll have to make do."_

Within two minutes after my awakening, the surgery starts. As soon as I make through the first layers of tissue, a dangerous amount of blood emerges from the creature's body. A conspicuous sign of internal bleeding.

I feel the clamp and tweezer shake in my hands. At the current rate, with blood pressure dropping to dangerous levels, containing the bleeding was essential to keep the Pokémon's heart from stopping. On a closer inspection, after the assistant aspirated away the hemorragia, I could spot the source of the problem – a torn liver and a crushed kidney.

People ran in and out of the room, bringing in blood and medicine, hurrying into stabilizing the patient, successfully avoiding hypovolemic shock. Only when the orthopaedists joined the operation, after checking and restoring intestinal integrity, I realized the true extension of the damage.

The Zoroark had its right leg twisted and snapped into a bizarre angle, with the right arm in a similar condition, and a whole side of its face was covered in dried blood. Its long, red mane had several blood clots sticking to it as well.

_"Our job here is done, Joe, let's go. We'll leave the superficial wounds to the interns, they'll arrive soon"_ My partner says, removing his blood-stained sterile apron, tossing it on a hamper before walking out of the room, and I follow shortly after.

Back at the rest room, he's changed back from the hospital's green scrubs into his regular clothes, and is packing up to leave. Only then I realize it's seven o' clock. I didn't know how long I took patching that poor Zoroark up – I just wanted to get back home and get some actual sleep as soon as possible.

_"So, weekend off?"_ He asks. His name is Mark Weiss, fellow surgeon, and my best friend.

_"Guess I deserve it, don't I?"_ I reply, after a long, lazy yawn. _"I've been handling all emergencies by myself for the past 18 hours before you joined shift."_

Mark chuckles. _"This schedule's gonna give you an ulcer someday, man."_

_"Six-hour shifts in Pokécenters ain't gonna feed your Mawile…"_ I ponder, closing my locker and swinging my bag over my shoulder, ready to make my way back home.

_"Swing by my place tonight, we'll have the PWT live from Driftveil on TV. I'll buy some beer and order a pizza."_

I nod and wave at him, starting my car. Through all the way back home and during the shower I rushed to after arriving, I couldn't stop thinking about the Zoroark and the accident's circumstances. The whole case was a puzzle missing several pieces.

Eventually, by the time I'm done with breakfast, my jaded mind surrenders and guides my numbened body back to my warm bed. As much as I cared for my patients, a weekend off was a weekend off, and I had to seize it. I'd have plenty of time to think about the situation soon enough.

The dream I had earlier, back at the hospital's rest room, made its way back into my subconscious as I feel deeply asleep.


	2. Monologue

Once again I was back at the arena.

Once again my Blaziken vanquished the anonymous opponent's Aggron.

Once again I stood victorious, overflowing with joy, and, before I could savor the moment…

…The sound of thunder struck me back to the life I belonged to.

I sit upright on the bed, looking out of the window. The rain crashed down against the glass like bullets, and grey clouds covered the skies, opposing yesterday's blissful weather.

Sudden, inconstant, violent climate changes are Lilycove's trademark, among a few others, one of which is Lilycove's Advanced Care Center – the hospital I work to. Hoenn's cutting-edge Pokémon care center, standing many steps above regular Pokécenters.

Others might say I couldn't ask for more. A great job, an even greater pay… But something was missing. Something that made everything else way too small for me.

Unlike pretty much every single normal person, I don't own a Pokémon. Every day, I wake up all alone, and come back home to loneliness. I don't have any special friend to keep me company, to take out on trips, to battle with, to share love with.

Of course, I dreamed of going on my own journey, like any other regular kid. But, growing in the home I did, I wasn't give options other than become a productive member of society and pick a stable career.

And that's where life brought me to – a place where I could get large bones thrown for being a good dog, while being around Pokémon, saving their lives, doing them good.

"Why don't you keep yourself a Pokémon, then, with all the indepence you've earned?" One would ask. And, I say, being a surgeon takes a lot of time. And raising Pokémon takes a lot of space.

As for space, I don't have much. I live in a pretty compact house, with merely five compartments – kitchen and bathroom included – and a small backyard, barely 15 feet across, overlooking the sea. As for time, I barely have any.

Still looking at the rain pounding my window, I think about the Zoroark left behind at the hospital. Would it survive? Would infection settle in? Had any trainer came to claim ownership yet?

My thoughts are once again interrupted by the sound of thunder, making me jump in the bed with a start and spring on my feet. Checking my phone, I realize I had slept way past lunchtime, leaving me in standoff against my stomach.

I walk to the kitchen, whip up a sandwich, walk back to the living room, grab a book, and commence enjoying a wonderful Saturday off indoors. Soon enough, I would be at Mark's place, having some pizza, and drinking my worries off.


	3. The Unnamed Feeling

Sunday was pretty much sitting at home all day, listening to music and enjoying a hangover. Just as I predicted, the weekend flew by and soon routine was back, gracing me with its pressures.

As I walk in the hospital's rest room to check in and dress up for duty, a familiar female voice greets me.

"Good morning, Dr. Rosewood."

I turn to face Miss Snow, the head nurse, and she offers me a cup of coffee. "Dr. Weiss has arrived a few minutes early, and has gone up ahead performing the ambulatory follow-ups. We need you at the ICU today..."

Bingo. Exactly where I needed to go.

"…to instruct a new group of interns."

Fucking interns!

"Roger that. Thanks for the coffee, sis." I smile at her, raising my cup as she leaves to run her errands. Shortly after, I lay the empty recipient over a tray and head off for the ICU wards.

Upon arrival, I frantically scan the beds for my target, but soon enough a group of interns surround me, one of them handing me a file.

"Um… Dr. Rosewood? We are your n-new interns…"

I've always been shy before audience, and very reserved even in personal relationships. So, as much as the idea of transmitting knowledge seemed noble to me, I'd pass tutorship any day.

Today's experience, however, wasn't being as traumatic as usual. The students were unusually silent and concentrated, which could only mean I was doing either great or terrible.

A few hours later, after a comprehensive rundown on cardiac surgery and heart disease, I dismissed the students and went for a glass of water before pursuing my private quest.

Then, I meet Mark making his way back from the ambulatory.

"Yoooo, how'd it go, Prof?" He waves, with a sarcastic smile.

"You knew beforehand, didn't you?" I snarl, nudging him in the arm.

"Well, of course… Being early pays off!" He shrugs. "Got the chance to check on our patient already?"

"I would, but I had your goddamn interns held me off all morning" I reply before downing a glass of water. "Now, shall we?"

He nods, leading the way. "I'll fetch the files; you go ahead and check on it."

After a brief search through both wards on the opposite sides of the ICU block's corridor, I spot the black fox lying on a bed, apparently asleep. As I approach the patient, I notice several patches of fur, besides the abdominal area, had been shaved off for orthopedic surgery.

It has its muzzle covered by a mechanical ventilation mask, connected to a tube, and the upper half of its face is wrapped up in bandages, leaving only one eye exposed, which remained shut.

"Congratulations, it's a… girl!" Mark spoke, reading her file aloud. "Hm… Sedated… Sustained heavy damage… Good prognosis. Remain under observation and watch out for signs of infection. Hm… No trainer claimed ownership over." He looks at me. "It's been nearly 72 hours, man. Do you smell it?"

I cock an eyebrow. "Smell what?"

"Abuse", he says, shifting to a serious tone. "Some dumbshit trainer wanted to get rid of her for whatever reasons, and she walked right into a truck's headlights trying to find her way back. That's the only explanation I can think of for an Unovan species lost in the outskirts of Lilycove."

I look down from him at her, nodding. "You're right…"

Then, that familiar sensation of disgust rises in me. Every time I hear about Pokémon abuse cases, my blood boils and my stomach curls. I just can't live with the idea of people harming innocent creatures out of nonchalantness – especially when all I could ask for was a friend to take care of.

"Poor girl…" I sigh, shaking my head.

"She… Has no name." Mark says, looking up at me as if waiting for an expected reaction. "The file refers to her as 'Patient 13000145', or so it seems."

"Yazmin."

"…Yasmin?" he says, chuckling slightly.

"No, no! Yazmin. With a Z." I say, handing him a pen.

"Yazmin it is, then!" he smiles, scribbling the six letters in the file's name field.

"Man, we should celebrate this." I pat his shoulder.

"After work?" he asks.

"Deal." We clap our hands – silently, not to disturb the patients – and head back to the living room to check the surgery schedule.

After the shift, as combined, we met up at our usual spot, a small pub downtown, and I eventually had to end up driving Mark's drunken ass back home.

"Thank ya, bruv, thank ya, sowy, thank ya" He said as I helped him get to his couch. The guy was so hammered he could barely stand straight on his feet.

"Need anything else?" I asked, stepping back to give his Mawile and his Mightyena space to rush to his aid.

"Jus'… Get the fuck outta dodge, 'cause I'm gonna throw up real soon", he groaned, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"Mawiwi!" The little yellow Pokémon cried, shaking his head slightly as if to wake him up, climbing over his lap. His Mightyena, though, seemed way more concerned about me, standing protectively between me and him.

"Uh… I… should get going, then…" I stammered, walking backwards to the door, avoiding the Mightyena's cold glare. Mark merely nodded and waved clumsily, holding his Mawile close with the other arm.

Somehow, the Pokémon's attitude towards both Mark and I struck me in ways I could not understand. Driving back home, I felt unnamed feeling grow inside me, and, by the time I shut the front door behind me, the emotion had condensed to a nearly-material point, crushing my heart against my chest.

Was it envy?

Was it sorrow?


	4. Gratitude

A full week had passed since Yazmin's intake.

A full week with no signs of progress.

Every day, during lunch time, I'd find myself sitting by her bed in a stool, staring at her silently, expecting her to wake up out of the blue and spring back to life. The sedation had been suspended two days ago, but she remained unconscious, not responding to any stimulation; comatose, in other words.

If the patient's mental condition held me in anguish, though, her physical recovery was one hell of a silver lining. All bandages had been removed and replaced by gauze dressings, and the smaller superficial wounds healed at a surprising rate, before the fur could start properly growing back to cover the scars. Infection hadn't set in, thanks to the prophylactic antibiotics, but the mechanical ventilation had opened a window to potentially lethal respiratory infection.

Emotional involvement is a professional's ruin. Though I tried my best at fighting off my delusion, I still found myself dangerously attached to that damned Zoroark. Mark would eventually drag me back to work with a condescending pat to the back. "It's no use, man. She'll eventually come back around", he always said, falling into an awkward silence afterwards, until I gave in and followed him out of the room. The few times I lifted my gaze up to him, I could see worry in his eyes.

Not only my workmates, but my neighbors also noticed something was going terribly wrong with me, despite the little contact I had with them. Their usual positively indifferent stance was replaced by a respectful, almost funeral-esque demeanor. And, every day, the neighborhood and my house grew smaller and smaller, tightening around me.

Back at the hospital the morning after, I found myself in a rather peaceful shift. Even though the ER was rather troublesome to handle on Saturdays, due to all those trainers battling with their Pokémon in their free time, Lilycove's infamous weather decided to do us all at the hospital a favor and keep 'em all (Mark included, as he was taking the weekend off) indoors for the day.

It was already halfway through the day, most employees were checking out for lunch time, but I wouldn't leave my seat at the staff room. I had been all morning long sitting in that insufferably tidy room, gazing through the window at the stormy sky, breathing the hospital's cold, sterile air. I could hear people coming in and out of the room. I could feel them staring at me and pondering the idea of yet again asking "What's wrong?", "Something you want to talk about?", or other such comforting expressions.

Not much later, Ms. Snow busts through the door, snapping me away from my thoughts.

"You! Downstairs! NOW!" She said, before turning on her heels and running back down the hall. I promptly oblige, rushing down to the Emergency Room's addmitance section. By her tone, we had a serious problem on our hands.

Rushing inside through the double doors marked with a large red sign, I see a Zangoose on a stretcher, with a young girl by its side, holding its hand.

"What happened?" I ask, before she notices my presence, walking to the side of the stretcher opposite to hers.

"H-H-He took a M-Mach Punch to his s-side and now he c-can't breathe!" She whimpered, looking up at me with watery eyes, shivering with terror.

"Some people are just itching for a battle", I thought to myself, equipping my stethoscope.

Upon a brief inspection, I notice the Pokémon's sharp, short breath, and its painful expression. Listening in through the stethoscope, the diagnosis made itself clear. The right lung, the side the patient received the trauma, was completely silent under my instrument, as if there was no air flowing in and out.

"Pneumothorax. You know the drill, nurse." I say, walking away from the Pokémon to grab the necessary tools, while she approaches it in an effort to shave off as much fur as possible from his side in the smallest time frame possible. "Now this is gonna hurt a little…" I continue, walking back to the stretcher and positioning the patient's right arm behind its head. The Zangoose turns its gaze to me, opening its eyes wide at the needle I was about to stab him his armpit with.

Mere seconds later, it was all over. The Pokémon howled, more from the shock than from the pain, causing desperate tears to fall from its trainer's eyes, as Ms. Snow tried her best to soothe them both. Shortly after, I attach a valve device to the needle's rear end, and the patient's breathing slowly returns to a regular rate and amplitude.

"Will… Will he be okay?" The young girl asks.

"Yes, but only for now. We'll have to put him under surgery and take a closer look. You see… Air was escaping into his chest from his right lung, compressing it against itself, but he's out of any serious danger for now." I finish with a smile.

She wipes her tears and giggles back at me nervously. "T-Thanks, Doctor…"

Just as I am ready to excuse myself and leave to make arrangements for the surgery, the trainer calls me. "Um… C-Can I ask you something?"

"Um… Yes?"

"Do you… raise any Pokémon?"

"I…" And Yazmin comes back to my mind. "…Don't."

She nods, looking down, letting more tears fall from her eyes, leaning into the stretcher to pull her partner into a hug. "I'll never forget what you did for mine."

"It's… Okay." I reply, storming out of the room and up the stairs, to the nearest lavatory, as fast as I could, without looking back. I couldn't let anyone see me cry.


	5. Sunrise

It's been a long trip back home so far. I don't where I came from, or how would I end up being led astray this far from Lilycove. The only thing I know, besides my destination, is that I'm going a bit faster than I should for this time of the night.

Everything's silent, except for the engine's deep moan and the wind whistling against my sedan's body. Soon enough, I see the outline of a roadside sign against the darkness, turning my gaze to check it as the distance closes and provides a better view. According to it, I was not farther than 25 miles from my neighborhood. At the current pace, I should make it in a matter of minutes.

However, as soon as I set eyes back on the road, I see what appears to be a person standing in the middle of the lane. I try to hit the brakes and swerve to the right, but it's too late.

It gets slammed against my car's headlights with an ear-splitting boom, as if a bomb had gone off inside the vehicle, rolling over the hood to the windshield, nearly shattering the glass, before falling to the asphalt as I hit the brakes.

As soon as my car skids to a stop, I pull over, turn on the emergency lights, and stumble out of the car, a little dizzy from the shock, coughing from the airbag's powder stinging my throat, sickened by the smell of blood burnt rubber.

Upon making sure both sides of the road were clear from oncoming vehicles, I rush to the fallen beast, dragging its body towards the roadside. It was not moving, but it was definitely still alive and conscious.

After laying my victim before my car's headlights for a proper exam, my heart sinks. The creature was a Pokémon, and it was also dreadfully familiar. It was Yazmin.

Suddenly, she snaps her eyes open and howls in pain, staring dead at me, grabbing my arms, begging for help. I want to lay her down and examine her wounds, but she clings to me desperately, afraid to let go and drift away into the unknown.

I eventually manage to break her stiff grip and move a hand beneath her mane, supporting her head, and wrap around her torso with the other arm, pulling her closer.

_"Sssh… Stay calm, okay? I'm right here…"_ I whisper in her ear, feeling the tears dripping down her face brush against my cheek. Somehow, I knew she couldn't be saved. Soon, her pain would fade away, and she would turn into an empty shell, merely an oversized lump of dead tissue.

And, in the blink of an eye, she was gone. It took me awhile to realize she was no longer breathing, and then I felt the starry sky crash down on me, while my body sank into the dirt as if it were quicksand.

_"Yazmin… Please…"_

If, a second ago, I had embraced the inevitable loss and tried my best at comforting her on the passage, now all I wanted was for her to wake up, hug me, and say everything would be alright.

The image of her turquoise eyes no longer shining, even against the car's headlights, froze my soul as I let go of her body, letting it slide down to my lap, and collapse over her, crying like a child.

Then, I rub my eyes to wipe away the tears, and as I open them again, I realize I'm back in my bedroom, staring at the ceiling. I flip on my side, checking the alarm clock on the bedside table. It marked 5 o' clock on its blue digital display. I was one hour ahead of the wake-up call.

Even though it was still dark, just like in the nightmare I had just awakened from, the sun would be rising pretty soon, so I got off the bed and walked to the kitchen to get breakfast ready.

By the time I was done crafting my meal (a sandwich and a glass of Oran juice), the sun had already lit up the sky in a crimson veil. Then I realize that, in the four years I had been living in the same house, I had never taken the time to wake up a few minutes earlier than usual and watch the sunrise.

I take a stool from the kitchen, open the back door, and set it outside, taking my seat to enjoy nature's show.

_"You had a bad dream, didn't you?"_

The unexpected call almost made me toss the plate and glass in my hands and fall off the stool. I look to my left, to where the voice came from, and see an old lady sitting outside her house, just like I am.

_"I heard you shout in your sleep."_ She says, opening a warm smile and gets on her feet, picking up her stool and carrying it towards the short, almost symbolic (barely a foot tall) fence that separated our backyards. _"May I?"_

Before I can muster a reaction, she leaps over the fence, only to make my jaw drop even further.

_"I'm Nancy, by the way."_

I eventually snap my surprise away and extend my hand to shake hers. _"I'm Joseph."_

She sets her stool by my side and takes a seat. _"It's beautiful, isn't it?"_

Nodding and smiling, I look away from the elder. At this point, the sun had shown itself, rising halfway through the horizon, lighting the crimson sky in a shade of yellow. The chilling breeze stirred the water's surface gently, giving it the aspect of a liquid mirror.

Suddenly, I feel a tug on my pajama pants. Looking down, I notice a Skitty staring playfully at me. I set my empty glass and half-eaten sandwich on the porch's step, and lean down to pick it up. Before I can reach the Pokémon, though, it leaps over my lap, rolling on its belly.

_"Marie! Behave yourself!"_ Nancy says, leaning in to pick the Skitty up off of from my lap, but I politely wave her away.

_"It's okay!"_ I say, holding her hand.

_"I apologize. She's always like this around strangers, eager to make friends."_ She laughs and shakes my hand once again, before letting go. _"Anyway… Do you want to talk about it?"_

The question caught me off guard. _"Excuse me?"_

_"About your dream."_ She finished.

Any other day, I would have turned her down, shutting myself in, afraid to rain my emotional issues over other people, especially strangers – but not today. I adjust Marie over my lap, lean back against my house's cold wall, take a deep breath, and spit it out.

Got it all the hell out of my chest. Everything, from my childhood in an overprotective home, to the latest events at the hospital concerning Yazmin, and how the former became a background to the latter.

After I finish, Nancy falls silent, rubbing her chin. A while later, I hear my alarm clock ringing inside my bedroom, breaking the ice. _"Um… I should get going now…"_

I set her Skitty down on the ground carefully, and, before I can stand, Nancy holds my wrist. _"Remember… We're always here for you. Both Marie and Me."_

_"I… Thank you, Nancy. It's nice to meet you."_ I exhale, pulling her motherly figure into a hug. We break away shortly after, and she leaps over the fence back to her property, leaving me yet again all alone to face the day.

Arriving at the hospital, I notice my workmates lightening up around me, as if realizing I had returned to my former self, before Yazmin's intake. Mark was the first to comment on it:

_"Joe… You're different. Start talking."_

_"Excuse me?"_ I say, grinning back at him, shutting my locker at the staff room.

_"Last time I've seen you in such a good mood was… Can't remember."_

_"I… Met someone. A girl."_

He laughs. _"Oh, really? What is she like?"_

_"She trains a Skitty… And she's 75."_

Mark almost falls on his back in surprise. _"Dude… Seriously?"_

_"I shit you not. She's my neighbor. A fine lady. The grandma I've never had."_

_"Ah. I see."_ He rolls his eyes and nods. _"So, what do we have today?"_

I flip through the files handed to me by Ms. Snow. _"Appendicitis, appendicitis, appendicitis… Hm… Looks like all the Pokémon in Lilycove need their appendixes cut off today. If we split the job, we can get through before the end of the shift."_

_"Understood. I'll get Ms. Snow and see if she can get us two surgery rooms ready."_ Mark says, walking away. I take the time while he's arranging paperwork with the rest of the staff to sip a cup of coffee. After downing the bitter black nectar, I close the lavatory's door behind me to brush my teeth. Upon seeing my own aspect in the mirror, I immediately understood my workmates' positive surprise when I reported for duty this morning. For the first time in weeks, I had a smile on my face.

And, throughout the rest of the day, from the first patient to the last patient, I held that smile on my face. A smile so genuine it could be seen even concealed behind my surgical mask. A smile fueled by hope.

However, an unexpected visit wipes it right off my face. Just when I arrive back at the staff room, fetching my bag from the locker, none other than Dr. Goldberg, the hospital's director, walks in and clears his throat.

_"Dr. Rosewood?"_

I snap halfway around on my heels, standing like a private before his general, and try my best at sounding formal. _"Yes?"_

_"I'd like to have a word with you in private. But not here."_

My heart starts to race, as I think through all possibilities that might have summoned such an illustrious presence before me.

The boss paces around, looking down, and speaks sort of slowly. _"Meet me at my office. It's a rather urgent subject."_

_"…It's about Patient 13000145"_, he finishes, making my heart sink, crushed by an ominous weight.

Patient 13000145 was Yazmin.


	6. Taking away the pain

Dr. Goldberg's office was located at the other end of the hospital, precisely at the West wing's top floor. After walking what seemed like all the way to Fortree and taking an elevator trip that seemed to take as long as a flight to Mossdeep, I knock on his office's door.

"_Dr. Rosewood? Please come in_."

I oblige, stepping inside and taking a seat by his desk.

"_Thanks for coming. Now… There is no easy way to say this, so I'll try to get straight to the point. You see, Patient 13000145 has been comatose for over three weeks now. You know this is awfully long for Pokémon standards._"

"_Y-Yes…"_ I nod, foreseeing the conversation's point.

"_And I got word of the circumstances she came to us in. You and Dr. Weiss were correct, this is definitely a case of abuse."_

"_So… Where are we going with this?"_ I say, feeling the air around grow colder.

"_We both know it is unlikely she'll come back around, and, if she ever does, she'll be yet another stray Pokémon with no home to return to… And that I say not considering she will have permanent brain damage and will have to live bound to a wheelchair at the very least_." He clears his throat and carries on. "_About adoption… Unfortunately, people see Pokémon for adoption as 'troublesome' and always assume there must be a reason they were rejected by their trainers. And, as she is your patient, I'd like to talk you about…"_

"_Euthanasia?"_ I finish his sentence.

"_Precisely. As much as we dislike the idea... I need you, as professional in charge, to decide to take away her pain, for her own good_." He says, handing me her file. I open it, and, inside, there is a death certificate.

"_All we need is for you to sign it, and the nurses will be clear to shut off the life support equipment. Think of the other Pokémon as well – We have quite a few Pokémon needing the room she's taking. Not to mention she's been requiring expensive treatment no one's exactly paying for."_

After he finished his sentence, I snapped my eyes up at him, trying my best to fight back the urge to sink that huge nose back into his face. I calmly pick the death certificate apart from the file, placing the latter over the desk, and take a deep breath.

"_So… Does her status make her any less special than any other Pokémon?"_ I ask, feeling the anger grow inside me.

"_N-No, not in any way!"_ Dr. Goldberg says, shaking his head vehemently. _"Just consider that…"_

Before he carries on with his point, rise from my seat, taking the death certificate in my hands, and tear it in two, clenching each half in my fists and slamming them on the table.

"_Get the Social Service NOW, because I'm adopting her. And I'm also paying back every single goddamn cent she's run down from the hospital._" I snarl, staring down angrily at him.

"_But… But…"_ He stammers, and it only seems to fuel my rage.

"_I don't give a fucking shit! This is a high-end emergency service, there's GOT TO BE someone standing by from the Social Service somewhere, and I need that someone RIGHT NOW!"_ I shout, making him flinch a bit in his chair.

"_I'll g-get an agent to meet you at the staff room…_" He says, staring at me in disbelief.

"_Thank you_." I spit out deadpan, walking out of the office, but he calls my name before I make it to the door.

"_Dr. Rosewood?"_

"_Yes?_" I answer, turning around.

"_I would have frowned upon your emotional attachment to this patient any other time... But, for now, I can only say you have the biggest balls among all of this hospital's employees, son."_ He says, smiling at me. I can't help but chuckle at the unexpected statement.

Back at the staff room, I see Mark, whom remained waiting for me as soon as he heard from Ms. Snow I had been summoned to the honcho's office.

"_Joe! What was it about anyway?"_ He says, getting up from his seat.

"_He wanted to talk to me about euthanasia_." I say, making him fall silent. "_But that shit ain't happening because I'm adopting her. In fact, the Social Service is gonna pay us a visit pretty soon._" I finish, causing an abrupt change in his expression.

His maw gapes a bit. "_Uh… Are you serious?"_

"_Would I joke about it, Mark?"_

Then, he suddenly pulls me into a hug. _"I'm… I just don't know what to say, man. This is… Wonderful."_

"_Are you crying, Dr. Weiss?"_ I smirk.

"_N-No! It's just that…"_ He says, breaking away, and wipes his eyes before tears get to fall from them, making me laugh.

Moments later, a short, fat lady peeks her head inside of the room. "_Social Service here! Is Dr. Rosewood around?"_

"_That would be me!"_ I turn to face her, raising a hand. _"Please come in."_

She walks in, smiling back at me, and sits on the couch by my side. "_Dr. Goldberg just told me you were willing to adopt Yazmin. Her situation is a bit complicated, for reasons that aren't actually relevant because he made me promise I'd make it happen. Now, I just need you to fill these in…_" She said, handing me several sheets of paper, and reciting social service protocol speech on duties and responsibilities as a trainer while I filled in the forms and questionnaires presented.

The questions ranged from normal (Full name, age, date of birth, employment status) to plain stupid (_"Do you know Pokémon are living creatures?"_) and absolutely weird ("_Are you sexually attracted to Pokémon?_"). After a few minutes carefully filling everything in, I hand the documents back to her, and she leaves after assuring I'd have full ownership over Yazmin within a couple of days.

Right after she leaves, Ms. Snow storms inside. _"You guys won't believe this! Get to the ICU right NOW!"_ She spits, running off, and I immediately bolt after her. Arriving at the ICU, we see about half a dozen employees, among nurses, technicians, and even a janitor, struggling to restrain a patient against its bed. Upon approaching the commotion, I see Yazmin desperately trying to break free and rip the needles, tubes and masks away from her.

I could hardly believe it. She had awakened from her slumber.

"_Somebody sedate her!"_ I command, approaching the bed to grab the sides of her head and turn it, forcing her to stare at me. _"Stay calm, we will not hurt you!"_ I say firmly, staring into her eyes. Then, I could see – she had beautiful eyes. In fact, she was, overall, more gorgeous than I could possibly imagine.

Shortly after, one of the nurses manages, through the struggle, to inject a syringe's content into Yazmin's arm, causing her to fall limp almost instantly. After the other people step away from the patient, sighing in relief, she reaches a hand to my wrist, holding it, while her eyelids slowly drop shut, as she falls asleep.

A single tear of joy falls from my eyes.


	7. Home Sweet Home

**(Writer's note: Sorry I kept you all waiting so long!)**

_"You know the drill, Joe!"_ Mark says as we step out of the hospital.

_"Alright, let's meet up at…"_ I answer, but he cuts me off.

_"No, wait… Let's do things a bit different. Go home, and I'll pick you up there. Today you ain't driving – you're drinking. We're celebrating harder than before."_

I chuckle, think for a few seconds, then nod in agreement. Not much later, we were sitting at our usual spot inside the nameless pub we would always go to, laughing and sipping drinks. The euphoric atmosphere, the dim neon lights, the drinks themselves, seemed as though they were just a dream that I was having, and that I would snap back to Dr. Goldberg's office at any moment – But it was all true. It was happening.

I was, for once in my life, complete.

As real as my happiness was though, the celebration still felt surreal. Seemed like after only a few drinks and, in the blink of an eye, I was back at my place. I was lying on the couch with a splitting headache, missing my shirt and one of my shoes and with a head-splitting headache. I try to sit upright, but the world spins around me and I collapse back on the couch, landing on my other side. Groping through my pants, I manage to retrieve my phone (much to my own relief) and check for notifications.

_"Call me back as soon as you wake up. I want to make sure you didn't drown on your own puke during your sleep. – Mark"_

_"That was really nice of you, Mark. Have you seen my shirt anyway?"_ I type back. Then, I glance at the clock in the corner of the phone's screen, and my heart sinks. If my eyes weren't deceiving me, I had overslept about one hour past my usual time.

The sudden adrenaline rush allowed me to break several personal records, including: taking a shower in record time, swearing at a record rate of words per minute, and driving at a record speed to the hospital.

_"Sorry for being late!"_ I say, storming into the staff room, drawing a confused look from Ms. Snow and the other nurses inside.

_"Today's your day off, you dingus."_ I hear Mark's voice behind me. _"You're supposed to be home sleeping."_

_"Eeeeeeeh… I completely forgot about that. Sorry."_ I say, rubbing my head, and looking down, searching for any holes I can dive into and hide from my workmates' laughter.

_"Why won't we go check on Yazmin while you're here?"_ Mark says, laying a hand on my shoulder and guiding me out of the room, still giggling from my gaffe. I nod and follow him to the ICU.

Approaching Yazmin's bed, I see another doctor, about my father's age, sitting by the bedside. Upon noticing Mark and me, he stands up, stretching out a hand. _"I'm Dr. Moore, neurologist."_ We shake his hand, introducing ourselves.

_"I… I don't even know what to say."_ He speaks, straightening his greyish hair. _"I've never seen anything like this before. It's like she just took a nap and woke up the morning after."_

My jaw drops. _"Do you mean…"_

_"…Yes. She's absolutely fine. No brain damage of any sort."_ He nods and blinks, as if Mark and me were mirages before his eyes. _"We could take her case to international conferences… If you consent, of course. She's under your guard now, or so I've been told."_

_"We can discuss that later."_, I say, smiling and walking around him to approach Yazmin, who had been silently staring at us the whole time, eyes jumping between Dr. Moore and me as if she were watching a tennis match.

_"Um… Hello there."_ I say, sitting by her bed, resting my hand above her head. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Mark guiding the neurologist out of the ICU, giving us some privacy.

Yazmin slowly turns her gaze at me, then returns to staring at the wall across from her bed.

_"How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?"_

Silence.

_"You… You were in a terrible accident. It was so serious that you went out for almost a month, and… I thought you wouldn't come back for a second. I'm glad you did."_ I say, sighing.

She once again turns to face me.

_"No one came for you. But… Don't worry. I've been here for you along. And I'll always be. Would you… Would you like to come home with me?"_ Then, I look into her eyes, and see them grow damp, as a furred claw reaches for my other hand.

Right as she grabs hold, Miss Snow walks in, hesitating as if she knew she had broken the atmosphere.

_"Dr. Rosewood…"_ She says, handing me a document. _"She's clear to go home. All the specialists have examined her, all you have to do is sign." I promptly oblige. "And, one more thing… The orthopedist said she should refrain from battling for six months at the very least. And that's all."_ She smiles, taking the signed document from my hands, and walks away.

A long silence follows, as I sat there holding Yazmin's hand, looking down down at my shoes, blindly trying to read her emotions and see into her thoughts. The few times I lifted my gaze to her, I could see her staring at me. Little by little, the message in her eyes made itself clear to me, and all along she was begging. If for forgiveness or for mercy, I do not know.

_"C'mon, Yazmin. Let's get the hell outta' Dodge."_ I say, standing up and leaning over the bed to help Yazmin sit upright. _"Let me help… Can you walk?"_ I say, placing both hands under her arms to help her slide off the bed. Even though she managed to stand up up her own, her legs fell limp within a few seconds and she collapsed against me.

_"Whoa! Easy… Easy…"_

I carefully set in over a wheelchair conveniently positioned by the bedside, and try to break away in order to get behind and push, but the Zoroark remains clinging to me, as if afraid of falling through her seat.

_"It's okay, Yazmin, it's okay… Now can you excuse me?"_

She slowly lets go of me, looking down and setting both hands over her thighs. I walk around the chair and pull it out of the room, heading for the parking lot. With a bit of resistance, I managed to get her into my passenger seat, and pull the wheelchair back to the hospital's doors before leaving.

Yazmin remained silent the whole time. From the medical supplies store, where I got her a wheelchair of her own and a pair of crutches, to the department store, where I got a brand-new mattress and pillows, and then on the way back home, she didn't make a sound and barely moved at all, holding the same sorrowful demeanor.

I'm not gonna lie – her silence was making me pretty upset. So, after arriving home and setting up the new mattress over the bed's frame at the guest room and lining it with sheets and pillows, I introduced Yazmin to her new home, walking away for a brief moment to fetch a hammer from my toolbox.

_"Yazmin…"_ I said in a serious tone, keeling before her wheelchair. _"This is your Pokéball."_ I continued, showing the Pokéball issued to me by the Social Service lady along with my Trainer Card a couple of days earlier. _"Let's make something clear… I don't want you bound to me against your will. If I ever upset you, or treat you wrong, you are free to run away. But, just so you know… I'll always try my best for you."_

And, after taking a deep breath, I set the Pokéball on the carpeted floor before me and Yazmin and shatter it with my hammer, rendering it useless.


End file.
